I sit and stare at the empty page. Not that my research isn't stellar - I have documents filled up with words other people have written, to help inspire my own writing. I have changed the font over and over again. I have taken breaks. I have sat after breakfast, after dinner, after coffee, before dinner, before coffee, day after interminable day. This is why I am not working fulltime. This is a voluntary decision, a choice I made so I could spend time on that which I really want to do. But the words, they aren’t coming. If only there was a literary isabgol somewhere.